Page 63 of Welcome to the Table
“Oh, he and Hollygrove still breathing. They took Jaci shopping the other day, and she ran both of them crazy. You might need to speak with yo’ brother.”
I nodded my head in agreement.
“And trust me. The right woman who can handle your lifestyle will come along when you least expect it,” she told me, rubbing the side of my face before walking off to hop back in her vehicle. She sped off just as fast as she came.
I thought about what she said and knew it was a lie. I wasn’t capable of love anymore. I couldn’t give my heart to another woman to break, or have to worry about a bitch using me for my money. It was already hard for me to trust because of my family business, so I would fall into the gap and be single for a minute if I ever tried again.
After I watched her turn the corner, I jogged back to the house to get ready for this meeting. I grabbed my phone and turned it on. The minute it came to life, all types of notifications started popping up. Phone calls, text messages, and voicemails. Hollygrove, Hellcat, and some other numbers that weren’t saved in my phone popped up. Even Jaci called me a few times. I needed to take her out after this meeting because I hadn’t spent time with her since she had been back home. I missed her, and she was the only one who would understand me. Athena understood to a certain extent, but Jaci would understand me fully. I decided to call Hellcat because this nigga had called and texted me over twenty times.
“Damn, nigga, you missing all the fucking action. I hope you plotting on some shit because we got some serious problems in yo’ fucking absence,” he yelled in my ear, and I wanted to hang up on his ass.
I grabbed my beard to calm my nerves as I ran up the steps. I already knew it was gon’ be some shit when it came to him.
“What’s the temperature, nigga?” I asked in code because we weren’t on my burner phone.
“Hell, nigga, and this meeting needs to happen asap before I be sitting with the fucking devil. I’ll send out the fucking text and the address. Just meet us at the warehouse and dress accordingly because these niggas think we on some hood lil boy shit, so we gotta really show out,” he said and disconnected the phone call.
I knew I had to pull out my big shit, but I was more concerned about the shit that happened while I was ignoring their asses. Knowing Hellcat, he was gon’ wait until the meeting, then air everybody the fuck out.
I knew this nigga was about to show out, so I had to do the same. I grabbed my walkie-talkie that was connected to my lil niggas.
“Out of sight, out of mind,” I spoke into it.
“Copy that,” they said.
I put the walkie-talkie back on the counter. They already knew what that meant, be on alert, and they already had my location, so they knew to not be too far away from me.
I hopped in the shower and took care of my hygiene. Then I walked into my closet and grabbed my navy blue and black Versace jacket and pants. I didn’t want to wear the vest because I knew I would wear my armor vest to carry my guns. I didn’t know what the fuck I was walking into with these motherfuckers. I had my diamond cufflinks out and grabbed my black Oxford shirt and laid everything on the bed. My lining was fresh. The previous day, I went to get that together, and my hands were manicured to perfection. I was that type of nigga. Hellcat thought the shit was gay, but I called it self-care.
I slid on my black Armani boxers and wife-beater. I put on my pants, then my shirt and vest, and tucked a gun in each holster. Finally, I slipped my feet into my shoes, put on my jacket, and walked over to my full-length mirror to see what I looked like. I was impressed. My hair was braided to the back with a bun, and my lining was chef’s kiss. I put my jacket on, buttoned just the top button, grabbed my phones, keys, and wallet, and headed to my garage.
I wanted to make a statement as I looked over my cars. I didn’t want a driver tonight; I would be driving myself. I decided to take my black 2025 Rolls-Royce Phantom with the navy-blue interior. I bought the car and never got the chance to take it for a drive. I left the other set of keys on the key ring and grabbed the fob for that one. The car was so fucking sleek and smooth that nobody would drive this bitch but me. I hopped in, hit the button to open my garage door, and pulled out. I looked to my left and nodded at my little hittas, who were walking across the field infull body armor. To the naked eye, they couldn’t be seen, but I knew they were there.
I enjoyed the car as I drove in silence because I needed it. The warehouse was located in the Arts District of History. I had purchased the building and had it renovated, and now it was beautiful but empty and soundproof. On the outside, it looked like the White House, but the inside held many secrets and meetings that the public wasn’t privy to. I pulled around the back and pressed the button to open the door so I could park in the underground garage.
As I pulled in, I noticed Hellcat’s Porsche but not Hollygrove’s car. They must have come together, which was better. I hopped out of the car, went to the back door, and put the code in to gain entrance. I entered the lobby and got on the elevator to go to the third floor. The minute I stepped off the elevator, I heard Hellcat’s loud ass mouth. Their eyes met mine.
“I knew yo’ ass was gon’ be in this bitch looking like James Bond and shit, but you had to know we was gon’ put that shit on.”
I had to admit, they cleaned up very well.
We were all dressed the same, but Hellcat had on red, and Hollygrove had on purple. It was crazy because we had on each other’s favorite color. I walked over and took my seat at the head of the table with Hellcat to the left of me and Hollygrove to the right. Hellcat was fidgeting in his seat, so I knew the nigga had some shit to say.
“Speak, nigga, cuz it’s burning yo’ tongue.” I grabbed the iPad from the middle of the table to monitor the cameras, so I would know when the niggas pulled up. I knew they would be coming soon, so he needed to catch me up, so I could know what the fuck was coming. I hated surprises.
“Well, some shit went down at the club. The Point Dawgs are trying to infiltrate the club with their coke, and Nino caught it.He called us, but yo’ ass was out of commission, so we handled it,” he said, and I knew he was leaving shit out. That was too vague.
“And what the fuck else happened?” I asked.
I looked down and saw a black Suburban pull up in front of the building.
“Never mind. The niggas just pulled up. We will talk later,” I told him as I watched four men get out of the truck and stand in front of the door. I pressed the button on the iPad. “The door is open. Take the elevator to the third floor.”
They looked around, and I knew they were scared shitless.
“This is about to be fun,” Hellcat said as the elevator doors opened.
Niggas really thought they were fucking Scarface. Walking in with trench coats that I was sure carried weapons, but I wasn’t fazed.
